


The Truth In Springtime

by Runsoirse (Rosawyn)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Banter, Beautiful, Best Friends, Flowers, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Hope, Lies, M/M, Mud, Nature, Philosophy, Rain, Regret, Spring, War, Water, Wine, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosawyn/pseuds/Runsoirse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Springtime on Bajor is a terrible lie.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth In Springtime

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Reveiws Lounge, Too (RLt) Springtime Collaberation "Sweet Spring Is Your Time" over on fanfiction.net

It was a quiet springtime afternoon on Bajor when Elim Garak and Julian Bashir were taking a walk together by a stream. Small pink-white blossoms from the trees floated like a flock of dreamy faeries through the air, some alighting on the top of the water and being swept along by the current before finding a place among their brethren clinging to the glistening rocks, forming a sort of frothy pink-white frill along the edges of the water.

“You know, I always loved springtime,” Julian said. “Back on Earth, of course, but on any planet really.”

Garak favoured him with an expectant gaze and a slightly-raised eyebrow, waiting for his friend to elaborate.

Julian grinned, taking a deep breath of the fresh Bajoran air into his lungs and letting it out with an expression of pleased satisfaction. “It's just such a hopeful, welcoming time of year—it's as though all of nature wants to tell us that everything is going to be okay, because even after the dark times, light and life always come back into the world: the snow and ice melt, leaves and flowers bud and bloom again on trees that seemed dead all winter, and the birds come back and fill the air with their singing...I just love it.” He smiled, his eyes shining.

“Oh yes,” Garak said, his own eyes twinkling in wry amusement. “There's also the mud, of course. And usually a great deal of rain.”

Julian chuckled softly, nodding in agreement as he looked down at the smears of mud on his boots—walking by a stream in springtime did have that effect on one's footwear. The damp gravel of the pathway made soft crunching sounds under their feet as they walked.

“The Bajoran winters were always the worst for the Cardassians during the Occupation,” Garak continued, “with weather so different than what we were used to back home.” His voice was still deceptively light, but his eyes had a sort of faraway look in them. “The only thing any of us ever admitted to liking about the spring, though, was the wine.”

Julian's eyebrows drew together slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Would you admit to it now? To liking springtime?”

“No.”

Julian looked somewhat offended, stopping in his tracks to turn and regard his friend with his hands on his hips. “Why ever not?”

Garak stopped and turned to meet the challenge in Julian's gaze with a mild and somewhat indulgent smile. “Because, my dear Doctor, it is a lie.”

Julian shook his head, his eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter. “Springtime...is a lie?” His voice was incredulous.

“Well,” Garak amended, “perhaps not springtime everywhere, but springtime on Bajor is a _terrible_ lie.” He sighed. “Nothing we broke during our Occupation of Bajor can be fixed by the changing of seasons. The lives we ended cannot be restored. No amount of time will ever truly melt the hearts of the Bajoran people to their former oppressors, nor should it.”

Julian laid a hand gently on Garak's arm, his eyes filled with a sort of pained gentleness that no doubt was meant to convey understanding. “Garak—” he began, then sighed, looking down. After a moment he looked back up into his friend's eyes, trying for a bit of a smile. “You believe nature is capable of lying?”

“It is the nature of _all life_ to lie.” Garak's reply was quick, but his features were schooled into a mild expression one might use when lecturing a small child.

Julian sighed, looking down at the glossy rocks at the edge of the stream. “How— You don't believe 'truth' even _exists_ ; how do you decide which 'lies' to believe?”

“Ah, my dear Doctor, you must try to believe the lies that are the most beautiful.” Garak looked thoughtful, and his eyes held a far-away look.

Julian looked intently into Garak's eyes, reached up, and ran his fingertips over Garak's cheek just below the bone ridge that curled around his eyes with a feather-light touch. “Then I believe this lie,” he whispered and pressed his lips gently over Garak's.

The kiss was tender and hesitant. After a few moments, Garak pulled back to look into Julian's face again and traced his own fingertips gently from Julian's temple down to the corner of his mouth. “Oh, my dear Doctor,” he whispered, “you tell the most beautiful lies.”

One of the delicate pink-white blossoms drifted through the air and landed in Julian's hair. Garak plucked it out with gentle fingers, careful not to crush the fragile blossom. “Perhaps...” he said, staring at the flower.

Julian took his hand. “I have always thought springtime was the most beautiful,” Julian said softly.

Garak let the flower go and watched it float and spin dreamily though the air to alight on a nearby rock. “One day,” Garak said as they began walking again, now hand-in-hand, “you must show me springtime on Earth.” His eyes were gentle as he turned and smiled softly at Julian. “But for now, I suppose Bajoran Springtime is also...beautiful, and I am...glad to share it with you.”

Julian smiled, looking thoughtful. “Can a thing be both 'beautiful' and 'terrible'?”

“Oh, my dear Doctor,” Garak replied, his voice soft, “of course it can—the most beautiful things are always terrible.”


End file.
